


A Monsterbot's Guide to Seeker Courtship

by praesaepe



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 13:31:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19174282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/praesaepe/pseuds/praesaepe
Summary: 6 tips from everyone's favorite monsterbot on how to court certain bat-winged, mustachioed seekers with a penchant for snark.ORThe course of true love never did run smooth.





	A Monsterbot's Guide to Seeker Courtship

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Jazz](https://ferrum-negative.tumblr.com/)! God, aren't niche ships the fucking best? You can tell I love them because I also reference my own super niche ot3 in this.
> 
> As always, hit me up at [praesaepe](https://praesaepe.tumblr.com/).

  1.   **First impressions are always important.**



Grotusque tossed back his cube of engex and took a large swallow before slamming it back down on the table and wiping away the drop that was sliding down the corner of his mouth. Across from him, Repugnus was saying something about a new recruit to the Lost Light, but neither he nor Doublecross were really paying attention. They had just jumped into a new universe - how could they have already picked up a stray? It sounded like a load of scrap to Grotusque, honestly, and as much as he cared about his _brave_ leader, he’d rather watch whatever Groove and Streetwise were doing in the middle of the bar. Wrestling, it looked like, and he was about ready to hop in and have a little fun too when he saw an unfamiliar mech enter the bar. Relatively unfamiliar, at least, because something about that wing shape reminded him of something from forever ago; for a moment he squinted, trying to look past the haze of overcharge, but his optics blew wide open as he realized where he had seen a mech like that.

“We’ve got a _sweep_ on board the ship?” he yelped, probably a little bit too loudly, because Repugnus cuffed him across the helm at the same time the sweep looked in his direction.

“Maybe if you’d been listening to me for the past few kliks, you would’ve heard me say that, according to Rodimus, he’s the original and all of the others were copies,” Repugnus growled. “His name’s Scourge, and he was in the medbay when we crossed to this universe. Cyclonus wasn’t actually too bad, right? So maybe this Scourge mech won’t be either, and Minimus would have my frame if you two roughed him up any.” The sweep - Scourge - looked away, and Grotusque finally noticed that he was trailing after Cyclonus and Tailgate, the former of whom was fondly watching the latter as he chattered about something or the other. Grotusque scowled at the table and rubbed the sore spot on his helm.

“Yeah, whatever, sure. Just surprised me is all. C’mon,” he said, quickly downing the rest of his cube, “I think Groove is about ready to tap out and I wanna have a go at Streetwise this time before Minimus gets here.” Repugnus huffed, but Grotusque could feel his field buzzing eagerly as well.

“What if we got all the protectobots in on it?” Doublecross cut in, a glint in his optics. Without waiting for an answer, he slid out of the booth and cupped his servos around his mouth. “Hey! Protectobots versus monsterbots, right now!” Groove and Streetwise paused in their grappling, and Hot Spot and Blades stood up from where they had been watching the fight and cheering their teammates on - First Aid, notably, remained seated.

“You’re on,” Hot Spot said, swaying with charge. Groove and Streetwise separated as Repugnus and Grotusque stood up, naturally forming up with Repugnus in the middle, his arms crossed and a grin on his face.

“Can we maybe not do this in my bar?” Swerve said, but his words were lost in the clash of metal as the two groups started grappling one another. By the time Minimus and a security team had arrived, three tables were broken and there were several shattered glasses on the floor, their former contents making it a slipping hazard. As they were being marched out of the bar and down to the brig to cool off for the night, Grotusque managed to catch Scourge’s optics. The seeker looked vaguely amused, and Grotusque was seized with the urge to grin and salute the mech. He only managed the former, as his servos were being held behind his back with stasis cuffs.

  1. **Get to know them.**



“How’d you end up on the Lost Light anyways?” Grotusque plunked himself down next to Scourge. Scourge looked at him with surprise, and Grotusque barreled ahead. “I heard some mechs saying you were onboard before we hopped universes and some say after, but if you’re actually the original of the sweeps it’s gotta be before, right?” At the mention of the sweeps, Scourge tightened almost imperceptibly, and his tone was even as he answered.

“Before. Brainstorm found me and helped me back to the ship,” he said, raising his cube to his lips. Grotusque grunted and nodded, flagging down Swerve for a drink. They sat in silence for a moment, awkward as all Pit, and Grotusque took a sip of his drink and stared at the glowing tubes behind the bar.

“Makes sense,” he finally said. “I joined after all that scrap with Shockwave. Couldn’t be on Cybertron without remembering everything about that freaky dead universe, so me and the other monsterbots hopped aboard the Lost Light for a change of pace.” Grotusque shuddered.

“I understand where you’re coming from,” Scourge said, cold and taut. When Grotusque gave him a questioning look, he continued, “I spent the better part of six million years in the dead universe. ‘Freaky’ is an adequate description.” Grotusque’s optics widened as he realized his mistake, and he lowered his helm to let his face rest against the bartop.

“Frag, sorry. I just keep putting my pede in my mouth, don’t I? I’m not too good at making good first - or second - impressions,” he moaned, muffled. He heard Scourge set his glass down.

“Back in the day, I myself got into a few bar scuffles. Usually I only had Cyclonus to back me up," he remarked. Grotusque's helm popped up.

"Cyclonus? Really?"

A smile touched the corners of Scourge's mouth. "A very long-suffering Cyclonus - not to say he didn't give me helmaches of my own," he continued, absently tracing a pattern on the bar with pink-tipped claws. Grotusque gave a gruff laugh.

"He does seem like the type to have a ginormous stick up his aft," he said. Scourge nodded and held out a servo; Grotusque looked between it and Scourge's face with surprise.

"My name is Scourge. It's a pleasure to meet you," he said. Grotusque, seeing the opportunity he was being given, grinned and gave it a firm shake.

"Grotusque. It's nice to meet you too. Not enough mechs around here have the taste to have wings in root mood, and it's a damn shame," he said. Scourge's optics filled with mirth. "Tell you what - next round's on me."

Scourge smiled, a full, real smile. "I would be amenable to that."

  1. **Try new things.**



Scourge stared quizzically at the pink cube Grotusque was tossing between his servos. "So the goal is to hold on to the cube until the timer runs out?"

"Yeah! Then you get an energon boost and your team scores a point," Grotusque explained. "It's harder than you think. The cube has an artificial intelligence, so you're fighting it _and_ the other team. I had Brainstorm help me program this one." Scourge raised an optic ridge, and he grimaced. "That might not have been the best idea, thinkin' back on it."

"Probably not."

"Well, we'll see. Let's do a couple practice rounds first," Grotusque said, placing the cube on the launch pedestal that Brainstorm had also built. He took a few steps back, resolving to go easy on Scourge as he got used to the game. "Ok. On your mark, get set, go!" Grotusque barely had time to notice that Scourge had fallen into what looked like a pretty good stance before he pressed the launch button and threw himself at the cube. His servos were almost brushing it when Scourge's claws came from seemingly nowhere and quickly tugged the cube into his grip. Grotusque ended up overshooting, but he stabilized himself and managed to recover before he landed back on the ground.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Scourge stood on the other side of the playing field, cube gripped in his servos, a smirk on his face. Grotusque shuttered his optics for a moment, shocked. “You’re going to let that throw you off?” Grotusque snarled at the taunt and leapt forward once again. It became very clear in the next few kliks that Scourge was far more familiar with the game than he had let on - his maneuvers, while possibly applicable on the battlefield, were some of the more old-school strategies that had dominated the game shortly after its origin. Grotusque managed to hold his own once he realized what was going on, and they ended their game with Grotusque one point ahead.

“Anything you’d like to mention?” he asked, grinning good-naturedly and elbowing Scourge in the side as they walked back through the halls towards the washracks. Scourge looked at the deactivated cube in his servos.

“I may have exaggerated my ignorance,” he admitted. “I remember when it first became popular. I enjoyed pick-up games from time to time.” He hummed, a little bit of static lacing the sound, and turned the cube over. “I guess Brainstorm didn’t add anything… _interesting_ to the AI, then. For the better.” As if on cue, it activated and vibrated itself out of Scourge’s servos before shooting down the hall. They looked at each other for a quiet moment, then took off running after it.

  1. **Be Confident**



“So, Scourge, do you wanna go to Swerve’s? Not like normal, like, on a date - frag, that’s just dumb,” Grotusque swore at his reflection. He was standing alone in one of the washracks, having just finished taking a quick solvent shower. He closed his optics and in-vented, holding it in for a klik before ex-venting and opening them, a smirk sliding over his face. “We should get a drink, just the two of us.” He paused, and the smirk dropped. “Primus, this is hard! What do I even say?” He scrubbed his optics with his servos.

He didn’t know when he’d started catching feelings for Scourge. One cycle, he was playing cube with the seeker, and the next he’d found himself staring wistfully at him across the bar at Swerve’s. Him. Grotusque, one of the monsterbots. Staring _wistfully_. He’d quickly snapped himself out of it, looked away, but the damage was done. He’d gone and fallen head-over-pedes for Scourge, ridiculous facial insignia and all. Well, other mechs considered it ridiculous, at least - Whirl had proclaimed so loudly, multiple times, when he was overcharged, while Cyclonus watched with a small grin on his face and Scourge just rolled his optics. Grotusque, on the other servo, found it dashing. He let out another ex-vent at the thought.

Even then, he had waited. Pined, but waited. Scourge hadn’t been ready, then, and the last thing Grotusque wanted to do was push him or make him uncomfortable. Time was something they had plenty of now, in the new universe, and Grotusque had been biding his, trying to shunt the thought out of his processor. Now, it was back with a vengeance, and he could feel in his spark that he had to tell Scourge.

“C’mon, Grotusque, you can do this.” His reflection met his optics with a matching steely gaze that quickly became despairing. “Oh, Primus. I can’t do this.” He turned and walked to the door of the washracks. “I mean, what do I even tell him? ‘Oh, Scourge, by the way, seeing you makes my spark go all a-flutter, like some overdramatic romance vid,’ or ‘You’re the most handsome, interesting mech on this ship and I’d like to court you,’ or some scrap like that?” He snorted. “‘Court.’ Yeah, I sound fragging _ancient-_ ” the door slid open to reveal a rather stunned-looking Scourge on the other side, who had obviously heard at least some of what Grotusque had said. Grotusque froze in the doorway, his spark beating rapidly, heat building up in his core until his cooling fans kicked on with a low hum. The noise broke him out of his trance, and he scrambled past Scourge. “I’m just gonna, uh, go, maybe I’ll talk to you later? Uh. Okay. Bye!” He only got halfway down the hallway before he heard his name.

“Grotusque, wait.” Grotusque stopped and slowly turned around.

“Yeesssss?” he replied, drawing out each letter in the word an almost unbearable amount. He tried not to fidget his servos, but completely and utterly failed.

“If you’re interested, I would love to go get a drink, just the two of us,” Scourge said. “Tomorrow, after I’m off-duty, perhaps? I can stop by your room and we can walk to Swerve’s.”

Grotusque’s grin was blinding. “I’d be amenable to that.”

  1. **??????**



“Do I look good?” Grotusque spread his arms and outstretched his wings, showing off the fresh coat of wax. “It’s not every day one of your captains gets hitched to two conjunx at once, y’know.”

Scourge smiled and reached up to press a kiss to the corner of Grotusque’s mouth. “You look fantastic,” he replied, stepping back again. Grotusque gave Scourge a goopy grin and reached out after him to pull him back in for another kiss, laughing as it ended.

“Did you repaint your claws? They look nice,” he said, lifting one of the servos in question and pressing it to his lips. Scourge hummed an affirmation. “You should do mine at some point, if you can. I don’t know how you’d paint a servo that doesn’t have any claws, but we could figure it out. Maybe not pink, though. I’ve already got enough of that.”

“I would do it now, but I doubt we’d make it on time to the ceremony,” Scourge said.

“Thunderclash wouldn’t even be upset, he’d just be glad we made it at all, and that’d make me feel more guilty than if he _were_ upset,” Grotusque said, frowning.

“Rodimus is half likely to be late to his own ceremony, and Nautica is probably being dragged to the observation deck as we speak to ensure she isn’t late herself,” Scourge replied with a grin. “If Velocity hasn’t forcibly taken her wrench away by now, I’d be surprised.”

“You’re not wrong.” Grotusque finally stepped away from Scourge, but didn’t drop his servo, instead winding his fingers through Scourge’s claws with a smile. “C’mon, we better leave now. If we get good seats we can get back to Swerve’s first before Riptide knocks over what will end up being the only platter of those mercury-coated chondrites you like.”

“Given I’m one of maybe three mechs that actually enjoys them, I’ll be surprised if they even have _one_ platter,” Scourge said, following Grotusque’s lead as they exited his room and made their way towards the observation deck.

“We’ll have to see,” Grotusque said, as though he hadn’t bribed Swerve to ensure their presence several cycles ago.

His servo had never felt so comfortable intertwined with someone else’s.

  1. **Profit**



Time was something that they had plenty of in the new universe, but it never stopped being a precious resource, and every moment that Grotusque got to spend with Scourge was a moment well-spent.


End file.
